Think about it
Author : Xiao Youtian
Flowers fall in the wind who are the Lord
It had never been so sad on a rainy day before, she thought.
It rarely rained so much in the north, and the asphalt did not stop for several days, but there was some difference compared to the rain in the south, like the raindrops of this rain are bean-sized, smashed on the window, snapped and fell apart and slid down the pane
Unlike the rain in the south, it has a general calm, this rain occasionally comes and goes, and it loses momentum slightly, but it is unwilling to stop.
But I haven't seen rain in the south yet, anyway, that's what it says in the book, she thought.
The poplars rustled outside the window, waving their bodies to fight the rain, and there was no trace of blood in the darkness, and every trembling leaf was submerged behind the last cloud.
The branches were still waving, like the upward climbing hair trying to envelop the man who was opening the window to mourn the night.
Whether it was sad or sad, the rainy night was really cold, even if it was midsummer, she closed the window.
"When will the loan be repaid?"
"Where did you go yesterday?" Do you still want this home! ”
"Daughter you don't take care of anymore, do you?" Don't come back if you don't go home! ”
"I don't care about you! Where would you like to go?"
……
It would have been nice if the rain had been louder, and perhaps it would have buried the sounds outside the house. The rain really fell heavily, as if hearing her appeal, and the raindrops from all directions smashed on her window, even at home. Are the sound of raindrops breaking so harsh? The sound of broken quarrels, the sound of broken furniture, the sound of broken tears... The raindrops shattered to the ground.
And she hid in her room, curled up in a huddle.
bang! The gate was slammed shut and someone left. The war stopped, or just stopped.
Life, always need to worry about chai rice oil salt sauce vinegar tea, a low income but stable job can not maintain the family ah.
Every quarrel always revolves around the world, the original most ordinary days will also have accidents, the original most ordinary days also need to be maintained, the original most ordinary days will also wear out likes.
But why, she couldn't understand. She opened the door and looked at her mother, who was sitting on the couch sobbing, and the living room in a mess.
Obviously, the tears that were held back couldn't stop falling down with the mother's action of wiping the corners of her eyes, "Silly child, what are you crying?" The mother saw her and tried to pull out a smile.
I hurt you, she ran over and hugged her mother, and the choked words finally stayed on her lips.
Mother and daughter were heart-to-heart, and the mother hugged her tightly, as if this would dispel the cold of today's day.
The lonely night and the lingering rain make up a dream-like night, not romantic, but sad.
That day she also finally understood that her mother seemed really pitiful.
From the moment I got married, I lost myself and lost my dream of being a princess. Perhaps this dream mother has never had before, because of the family that was not rich when she was a child, because of the situation of the transformation of the old society in her youth, and because of her unsatisfactory life after marriage in middle age.
Mothers are always living for others, for the elderly in the family, for their children.
She thought of once advising her mother to live for herself in the future, but her mother only responded perfunctorily, saying, "That's my mother and father, of course, I have to take care of them, you are my daughter and my tug."
At that time, she was still young, only vaguely understanding her mother's words, and now she finally understood that tied love. Her mother also became a tyranny in her life.
Now she's gone far from home.
Video calls and emotionless messaging displays add to the charcoal fire in her winter.
"Everything is fine today, what about you?" Sending the last text message, she wrapped her coat tightly, and the hot air she exhaled turned into a cloud of white smoke in the cold air. This winter is really cold, she thought.
bite... She looked at the text message she successfully received, "I danced square dancing, today your grandmother is also discharged from the hospital" The corners of her mouth rose unconsciously, and this winter does not seem to be so cold.
The smoke cleared with thoughts drifting towards the man who longed to run day and night
The falling flowers go with the wind, thinking slowly